She rode along on the flood, clinging to him as he held her tight. His lips were sweet and relentless. He tasted her, nibbled and coaxed till he took full possession, invading her with his tongue.

Heat and desire washed over her. A tiny voice in the back of her mind warned her she was in over her head, but she didn’t care. She’d never been kissed like this. She could drown in his desire and beg for more. His passion pounded against her, one wave after another, lifting her higher and higher.

She groaned with disappointment when he suddenly broke off the kiss. “Gregori—”

“They’re coming.”

“You can—” Of course, she realized. He could hear.

“Charles and Angus,” he whispered, his eyes gleaming red in the darkness. “They came out the side entrance. Charles must have gone to the security office to make Angus unlock a door.” He tightened his grip on her. “Trust me.”

Everything went black for a second, then she stumbled onto the ground.

“Are you all right?” He steadied her.

Hell, no. Her knees were wobbly, her heart was pounding, and her lips were still tingling. By George, that man can kiss.

She’d done it. She’d kissed him. She reached up to touch his cheek.

He turned his head to kiss her palm. “They’re coming.”

She looked around, but only saw trees. “Where are we?”

“At the back of the garden. You asked for a tour, and being a gentleman, I naturally obliged.”

“Really?”

“That’s our story, and we’re sticking to it.” He took her hand and led her down a path she could barely see in the moonlight.

In the distance, she saw Charles running toward the gazebo. Angus MacKay followed behind, his kilt swishing about his knees. She withdrew her hand from Gregori’s. Their moment alone was over.

“Miss Tucker!” Charles disappeared inside the gazebo, then emerged seconds later. “She’s not here!”

“Charles!” She waved at him and quickened her pace until she reached a well-lit area. “I’m fine!”

Relief swept over his face, quickly replaced by anger. “Don’t ever do that again!”

“I was perfectly safe,” she assured him. “I just wanted to see the garden.” She glanced at Gregori, and thankfully his eyes were no longer red and glowing.

Charles shot a suspicious look at Gregori, then turned back to her. “I should take you back to the hotel now.”

She nodded. “In a moment. Mr. MacKay, I understand you’ve been making plans for my trip. I want Gregori to come with me.”

“Och, is that so?” Angus’s eyes twinkled with humor. “I’m sure that can be arranged. If Gregori is willing.”

“I am,” he said quietly.

Abigail touched his arm. “Can you come to the White House tomorrow night and explain your plans to my father? I’d like to get his okay, so we can proceed as soon as possible.”

Gregori nodded. “I can do that. Why don’t you and Charles head toward the limo? I’ll fetch your plant from my office and bring it to you.”

“All right. Thank you.”

His mouth curled up. “I hope you enjoyed the tour.”

Her face warmed. She watched as he dashed toward the building at an incredible speed.

“He moves awfully fast,” Charles muttered.

“Yes.” Her blush grew hotter. It had taken him only a few nights to make her melt in his arms.

Angus led her and Charles back to the side entrance at a much slower pace. By the time they reached the foyer, Gregori had returned with the plastic container containing the plant she wanted to examine.

Angus entered the code to unlock the front door. “Rest assured, lass, that we will do everything in our power to keep you safe on yer trip.”

“Thank you.” She stepped outside.

While Charles circled the limo to the driver’s seat, Gregori opened the back door for her. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yes.” She tried not to blush as she climbed into the car.

He leaned over and whispered, “Take a look inside the box.” He winked, then shut the door.

As Charles drove away, she peeked inside the plastic container. Inside there was a dried root wrapped in plastic. And a note.

She opened it and found a number scrawled at the top.

My dear Scholar,

Here’s my cell phone number. If you’re alone any time at night and wish to see me, call and I will come.

And remember—with love, anything is possible.

She sighed. If only that were true.

She was falling in love with him. But it was still impossible.

Chapter Eighteen

The next evening, Abigail headed upstairs to the family floor so she could check on her mother. She and her sister had flown back to D.C. that morning, and she’d spent the rest of the day at the lab, gathering information for the meeting tonight with her father. And Gregori.

By George, that man can kiss. Prunella Culpepper had been right about that. She’d hardly slept a wink last night. Memories of kissing Gregori had filled her mind, and she’d relived the scene over and over, treasuring each detail she could recall and eventually imagining what could have happened if they hadn’t been interrupted.

She tightened her grip on the handle of her leather portfolio. She’d have to act cool at the meeting with her father. Not stare at Gregori with red-hot cheeks. Her files were inside the portfolio, along with Gregori’s note, safely stashed away in a zippered pocket. Could she work up the nerve to call him? She would need to be alone to do it. She couldn’t let a Secret Service agent overhear her flirting with a vampire.

She hadn’t found a moment alone since sunset. She’d worked late at the lab with some other scientists. An agent had picked her up and delivered her to the White House. Even now, as she made her way to the clinic, there were Black Suits stationed here and there, always watching. Always on alert for danger. And no doubt they considered Gregori a danger.

She knew she should keep a distance from him. It was the smart thing to do, and all her life, she’d always done the smart thing. But it was already too late. She’d stepped off a cliff and didn’t know how to stop the fall. Wasn’t sure she even wanted to stop.

Falling for Gregori was a crazy, irresponsible act. Totally out of character for her. And totally exciting. How strange that it took an Undead man to make her feel so alive.

She nodded at the female agent who stood by the clinic door. Inside, she could hear laughter—her mother’s and Madison’s.

She slipped inside. “Hello.”

“Abigail!” Her mother waved her over. “We were just watching Madison’s commercial. Come and see it.”

“She already saw it live.” Madison reached for the remote control. “But if you’d like to see it again?”

“Sure. I’d love to.” Abigail hugged her mom and quickly looked her over. She looked tired with dark circles under her eyes. “Is Debra gone for the evening?”

“She’s on her dinner break,” Belinda said. She leaned close and whispered, “We’re not supposed to talk about

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